


gratitude.

by aurelacs



Category: Prospect (2018)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Ezra loves eating pussy, F/M, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Slow Burn, Some Come Eating, Some pining, Unprotected Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:54:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23700400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurelacs/pseuds/aurelacs
Summary: You and Ezra have been business partners for a little over a year when a buy goes very wrong.
Relationships: Ezra (Prospect) / Reader, Ezra/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 55





	gratitude.

“Stop flinching.” **  
**

Everything happened in such a flash that you barely had a chance to comprehend the events that had unfolded right in front of you. Ezra, your business partner, was negotiating a price for your recent dig with a duo of mercenaries that rubbed you the wrong way. He gave them the same, long winded speech he did to every group of potential buyers and they seemed jumpy as he did so. One kept his eyes squarely on you as you clutched the suitcase full of aurelac to your chest. Back on less toxic ground, a haul this size could set the two of you up for months, but scavengers had stripped your pod for parts. You had managed to find someone on the Green willing to trade, but they strangely weren’t interested in aurelac, and only wanted credits. The desperation led you and Ezra down a path that Ezra had no problem taking, but set you on edge. And the mercs were proving your gut right. You could almost feel the confusion on Ezra’s face as one of the mercenaries tried to name their price. 

“Gentlemen, I do believe you are selling my partner and I a little short. We are not even asking for the full price we deserve, merely enough for us to repair our vessel and be on our way off this wretched moon.” 

You weren’t sure when it started, but it was hard not to notice every time since. A fluttering in your chest whenever Ezra referred to you as “his partner” or “bird” or by your name. The way it rolled off his tongue, cushioned in his flowery, broad, strange language. It might’ve happened some time between your first big sell and the first time you returned to the Green after rotations away chasing other lucrative resources. **  
**

It had been over a year since that sell; Ezra managed to find an untouched deposit of red sand on a near empty planet. The entire trip back to the Ephrate saw both of you as nervous balls of energy: restless fingers on the ship console as Ezra fought to break the atmosphere, tapping heels as an appraiser mercilessly took his time inspecting the haul. Your nails had been bitten down to nubs. The entire process took three hours. Analyzing, appraising, weighing, analyzing again, and converting currency until someone finally met the two of you in the cushy office and gave you their price. The sound bounced around in your head and you had trouble believing that much money could exist. Ezra had shot up from his seat, pulling you up with him. He twirled you around in celebration and when he put you down he leaned you back and kissed you: a reaction so fitting and overwhelming to your newfound wealth that you couldn’t find it in you to protest. And you didn’t want to. Sometimes the memory creeps back into the forefront and makes your lips tingle. The two of you hadn’t mentioned it since. On occasion you’ll catch yourself staring at his mouth as he speaks, dreaming of kissing him again, and you know he notices because a small smile will inch up as he continues to talk. A couple times you caught him staring back. 

The money you made from the red sand was more than enough for the two of you to part ways and retire, but you could see the look of confusion on Ezra’s face when you brought up the idea. It read “why would I give this up” with twice the words necessary, and you couldn’t help but agree. There was a rush to every aspect of prospecting. It was an addiction. And, silently, you weren’t quite ready to part ways with Ezra just yet. You had only been working together for four months, and it wasn’t enough time to scratch the itch that developed on your palms. You both put your split fortunes on bank cards that you kept far off your person to prevent others from potentially stealing them from you. 

When you first returned to the Green, you were hesitant to even try prospecting. The Aurelac Rush nearly wiped the whole moon clean, and there were still plenty of other prospectors ignoring the fact. Adding the toxic air to the mix made you claustrophobic. The suits you had to wear itched against your skin, and the sound of your breath echoing in your helmet filled you with an unease that refused to leave until you had docked back onto the freighter. Ezra felt the opposite. He reveled in the moon’s lush greenery and its sense of anonymity. As much as he spoke of his love for the Green, you could tell he hated the helmets as much as you did from the way he shook his head when he took it off. His first breath was always long and slow as he deeply took in the unfiltered air of your pod or tent. 

“I’d be more inclined to stay on this moon if it wasn’t so damn toxic,” he said as he made his way out of your pod. “I would say it’s prettier than a picture, but there is that one you have of us from when we sold the sand, and it is unfair to the Green to place it in a losing race against your smile.” He didn’t stick around long enough to gauge your reaction: a rosy flush up your neck to your cheeks, mouth slightly agape in confusion. Your lips had begun to tingle again and it took you a minute to remember what the hell you were doing. _The Green. Aurelac. Ezra_. That trip you struggled to keep up with him. He began to serve better as a distraction than a partner. 

Ezra managed to unearth enough viable dig sites that it almost justified the visit. You wanted to put your foot down, no more going to the Green, not when there were plenty of other planets and moons with easier, more valuable jewels and resources to scavenge and doubly so when the both of you were so rich you didn’t even have to prospect in the first place. In response, he laid out a map you could barely understand. He spoke of untold riches, unlimited aurelac: “My bird, we are already rich beyond the stars, but what if we could be rich beyond the _universe_?” It was a map to the supposed Queen’s Lair. The shine in his eyes as he talked made it impossible for you to say no. 

By Kevva, you wish you did. 

The map didn’t lead to the Queen’s Laid like Ezra had been told, but the deposit was still large enough that it would’ve been foolish to merely leave it behind. That led to the mess with your pod, the parts dealer, and now the mercs. The one who wouldn’t take his eyes off of you, grew tired of waiting for Ezra and his partner to negotiate and fired his weapon. His aim was off, however, and the bullet only grazed your arm. Or maybe it was exactly what he wanted to do. The sudden shock made you drop the case of aurelac, and made Ezra drop his guard to help you. 

“That is _not_ what we fucking agreed upon,” Ezra shouted. His hands clamped around the wound to stay the bleeding and to try and maintain the integrity of your suit. It meant that Ezra couldn’t reach for his pistol as the mercenaries grabbed the case and bolted. Ezra continued to curse under his breath as he coaxed you up onto your feet, hands still firmly grasped around your wound. You looked down to check and watched as blood escaped through his fingers. He pulled you along, gently, towards your tent: a dark green beacon of safety and clean air about two hundred feet from your meeting spot.

“I apologize, birdie. It seems as though lady fortune would have turned her eye on us today.” 

Which is how you found yourself here: heart racing from a mixture of adrenaline and his proximity, trembling from the warmth of his touch. You were too numb to scream, the confusion and rush from earlier kept your brain entirely occupied on trying to comprehend the last fifteen minutes. Ezra was concerningly quiet. His eyebrows furrowed, eyes and mind focused so intently on your wound that his mouth seemingly forgot to move. He had practically ripped open the first aid kit, opting to use that instead of the patch gun you kept with you. “ _I am not inclined to trust items that claim to be the only thing you need. It’s simply not feasible_.” You were sat on your cot, Ezra kneeling next to it to get a better view of your arm. 

“Chew this,” he said. He dug into the pocket of his suit and dug out a sedative.

“No.”

“I am not asking.” He gripped your arm tighter to keep it in place. The adrenaline was wearing off and the pain began to course through your body. 

“I know you aren’t. And I’m not taking it,” you heaved through clenched teeth. You weren’t even sure exactly where on your arm the bullet had grazed you; the ache consumed it to the point where it felt more akin to searing light than skin. 

“I don’t know why you insist on being needlessly resolute in a situation like this, but so be it. You are going to need to stop flinching.” You nodded a silent promise. 

Ezra loosened the grasp on your arm until his fingers danced against your skin, applying just enough pressure to keep it raised. You inhaled sharply as he cleaned the wound. The muscles in your bicep involuntarily flexed at the sensation. It was hard to keep yourself from staring, both at the wound and at Ezra. You opted for Ezra, focusing not directly on him, but on the blonde patch of hair that had always vexed you. It never faded, always seemed to grow with him. Was it a birthmark? His voice pulled you out of yourself.

“That’s it, birdie, just focus on me.” His eyes flicked up to meet yours and a wave of calm washed over you. _Don’t have to tell me twice_ , you thought. Ezra’s lips curled up in a slight smile that suggested the thought might not have remained in your head. He worked impossibly fast, fingers nimbly dancing with needle in hand as he mended you. The brush of his knuckle as he threaded the stitches echoed across your skin. You grew warm. Despite the two of you being partners for over a year, you rarely touched save for errant brushes as you maneuvered in the tight spaces you frequently found yourself in. You weren’t sure why Ezra chose to do it, but for you it was a matter of principle; a sign of respect as associates and partners. It left both of you touch starved. A yearning that ached whenever either of you exposed even the slightest bit of skin. It exposed itself as you walked around the cabin in a tank top and you could feel as his eyes traversed the swathe of skin below your collarbone. When he would misplace his pants, searching for them in only his boxers: his strong legs on full display. The way your hand twitched as he bent over shirtless to pick them up and the muscles in his back rippled. 

You found yourself still lost in thought when he declared you “healed.” Ezra delicately wrapped the gauze around your arm, securing the dressing in place. He kept his hand in place when he finished and rubbed a spot below the gauze with his thumb. The pain was already subsiding. 

“How about no more mercs for a little bit?”

Ezra smiled up at you. “I think I like that proposition.” Letting go of your arm, his knees cracked slightly as he stood up and turned to retreat to his side of the tent. 

“Wait.” You ignored the look of confusion on his face, you took his hand in yours. You cradled it, tracing the lines of his palm, the calluses that danced around his fingers. It was hard to count the amount of times you had simply _stared_ at his hands. They were large with thick fingers that still managed to work dexterously, deftly managing their way around gems or the trigger of a gun. They vexed you. When the two of you sat at the appraisers in the Ephrate, waiting and waiting, what kept your heart rate steady was the sight of his fingers as they danced along his bouncing thigh. 

You pressed your lips against his palm. “Thank you,” you muttered, unable to make eye contact with him. It felt overwhelming. The first hint of affection in months because both of you were too scared to voice the undeniable truth between you, lest it break the carefully woven web you created; like the cautious dances from lifetimes ago that eschewed touch. In your chest, it felt like a flower opening up. Growing more brazen, you stood up and kissed his palm again before working your way up his arm: the delicate skin of his wrist, the tender flesh of his forearm, his bicep and shoulder. You kissed your way across his collarbone and took in the small hiss he made when your lips brushed a vein in his neck.

“What are we doing here,” the confusion practically oozed out of his voice. Your lips ghosted up the column of his neck to kiss the tattoo behind his ear. You kissed everywhere except his lips, fearing that it might topple what you had so carefully built.

“I’m thanking you.” You paused when Ezra didn’t respond. “Is that alright?”

He cautiously put his hands on your hips and pulled you impossibly closer. His eyes darted across your face from your lips to your cheekbones to your eyes and back. With each half second you grew more worried until he kissed you right between the eyes. 

“Abundantly so.” 

One of Ezra’s hands snaked up your body to caress the back of your head and kiss you fervently, like a thirsty man having his first drink in weeks. It was hard to keep yourself contained. You wanted the kiss to last as long as possible, but his lips were a drug that made you beg for more quickly and without end. You ran your tongue across his bottom lip and sighed into him. Ezra dragged his hand up from your hip and brushed it up and under your shirt, gripping onto your back. The skin on skin contact blazed a fire through your spine. You placed your hands on his shoulders and turned him so his back was towards the cot. You pushed down gently, urging him to sit with the intent of settling yourself between his knees. Ezra took the gesture as an invitation to something else and lifted your shirt up slightly. He kissed along the waistband of your pants, the wiry hair of his mustache and beard stinging your belly. You lost yourself in the feeling of his hands gripping on your thighs to keep you in place, the feeling of the heat pooling in your underwear.

“I’m supposed to be thanking you,” you hummed.

“Not to expose myself, but I have thought about doing this for a long, long while,” Ezra said as he gently pulled down your pants. His forehead rested on your belly as he continued to nip and kiss and play along the waistband of your underwear. You gasped as he nipped at your hip bone, a sensitive spot you didn’t know existed. His nose trailed its way down to your mound and nuzzled at the slightly damp fabric between your legs. At first he simply mouthed the area, placing open mouth kissed along your slit and thighs until your hands gripped and pulled at his hair, demanding release. Ezra yanked down your underwear and immediately his lips found your clit and sucked. You yelped and tried to manage your grip on Ezra’s hair, almost afraid you would pull it out. His mouth covered you and his tongue traced various shapes on your clit. Occasionally, his tongue would dip in between your slit, making you both moan. After what felt like hours of sublime torture, Ezra coaxed one, then two fingers inside of you, slowly thrusting them in tandem with his tongue. It was a slow, delicious build. He knew how to listen, changing his methods if he thought the small moans he elicited from you were too small for too long until he hit that spot and a raspy _fuck_ escaped from your lips. He groaned at your pleasure. _You taste like heaven itself_. Through it all, he never changed his pace. You tried to rock your hips to coax him to go faster and all he did was grip onto you harder, assuredly leaving a bruise. 

You looked down for the first time and the sight of him: his mouth on you, his eyes lust-blown at your taste, made you come, hard, around his fingers. You could barely hold yourself up as the sensation ricocheted down your legs and Ezra’s voice cooed at you: “ _That’s my gir_ l.” 

Ezra pulled you down and kissed you, his slick-covered tongue licking into your mouth. You moaned into him. He used the opportunity to pull you on to the cot with him, making quick work of the rest of your clothes. The sight of you coming made him hungrier, starving for more of you. You straddled his hips as he practically ripped your bra off and enclosed his mouth around one of your hardened nipples. On instinct, you ground down on his still-clothed, hard cock, your body further craving him. He clutched onto your back again, like letting go of you meant you would disappear. Ezra couldn’t keep his mouth off of you. He released your nipple with a _pop_ and kissed your breast, licking up your sternum before leaving a deep hickey under your collarbone. 

“Please,” you begged, animalistically tugging at his shirt. He got the hint and pulled his shirt over his shoulders and leaned back, letting you explore the beautiful expanse of his torso for the first time. It was peppered with small scars, most seeming to be from bullets or knives. You kissed each one as you crawled down his body. You watched as his belly rose and fell with each labored breath. You reached into his pants to expose his cock, straining from how hard it was. His head fell back onto the pillow as your mere touch was just enough to give him purchase. You licked up the head of his penis to gather the drops of pre-cum onto your tongue. A slew of curses fell from Ezra’s mouth. A hand threaded itself through your hair and gently coaxed your mouth further onto him and you obliged. You worked him as slowly as he had worked you: your mouth laxidaxiously bobbing around his cock like you had all the time in the world. Ezra could barely contain himself. 

“Kevva could not have made a more perfect mouth.”

You wrapped a hand around the base of his cock and moved it in motion with your mouth, your saliva running over your knuckles. The noises you made were obscene, but they served to drive Ezra further down the path of insanity. His hand white-knuckled the edge of the cot. You licked around the head, keeping yourself stationary while continuing to move your hand up and down the length of his cock, while the other began to play with your clit. After a few minutes, he begged you to stop. 

“Birdie, if you keep going, it will surely mark my end, and I want all of you before this is over.” 

Ezra pulled you off of him and looked at you in awe. You were sure you looked a mess: hair still sweaty and out of place from the helmet, your cheeks red and your lips swollen with spit covering your chin. He tugged you up for another kiss, _I taste so good on your mouth_ , before flipping you on to your back. You were already so wet from earlier and from his words of praise that he slid in with no resistance. You hummed in contentment at how full you felt with him inside you. He kissed your jaw as he slowly started to fuck you, adjusting to the feeling of you around his cock. It felt like he was everywhere, engulfing your senses until he was the only thing you could think of and you were begging for him to speed up, to give you _something_. Your hips rocked against his and you watched him smirk at your whimpers and pleads. Ezra pulled out and you gasped at the loss before he almost slammed his cock into you, leaving you breathless. His tempo was relentless. 

“Fuck, your pussy is ethereal,” he moaned into your ear. He was almost completely on top of you, his forearms resting next to your head. “I don’t think I’m going to last very long,” he chuckled. You could already feel your second orgasm building and could only manage to nod. Ezra continued to suck marks along your throat and chest until you were convinced that there was no part of your skin that was untouched. Ezra began to slow, unable to keep up with the pace, and rocked his hips into you. You moved your hips in time with his, causing him to hit that spot over and over again. His hips stuttered as he came inside you. Admiration fell from his lips: praising you, your mouth, your pussy as it shuddered around his cock with your climax. Ezra pulled out and swiped away some of the cum on your thigh that had leaked out of you and placed his finger to your mouth, where you graciously licked it off. He laid next to you, out of breath and smiling. He took your face in his hands and laughed against your lips.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re welcome, birdie.”

**Author's Note:**

> My first time writing Ezra! I hope it's alright. You can also read it on tumblr: https://aurelacs.tumblr.com/post/615612718605598720/


End file.
